The Dark One Comes
by Spirit Avenger
Summary: Who in their right mind would want to GET INTO the Elite Hunting facility?  Someone wants in, evidently, and the Elite Hunting people may have just bitten off more than they're prepared to chew...
1. Chapter 1: Stakeout

**DISCLAIMER:** I do not own either of the movies in the _Hostel _series, nor am I affiliated with them in any manner whatsoever. This is just fanfiction. Moreover, no character dialogue or thought should be construed as representing my own personal views or feelings; it is just character development.

**Chapter 1: Stakeout**

Jordan sat in the tree and stared across the street through his binoculars. Specifically, he was observing the giant gate for any sign of activity. So far, nothing…

_Fuckin' Slovakia...The asshole of Europe, from the looks of it...what the hell was he thinking, anyway?_ Jordan thought, shaking his head. _If you're gonna go to Europe...Damn, that's why they created places like Paris and Rome!_

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"_**Where in Slovakia did you say Richard was when you last talked to him?" asked Jordan's contact.**_

"_**It was this little village outside of the capital, Bratislava. Trat-something or other," Jordan replied.**_

"_**Shit," the contact muttered under his breath. "Okay, what was the last thing he told you? What was he doing? Where was he?"**_

"_**Well…he was just exploring the city. What can I say? He loves these little towns, calls them 'treasures.' Between you and me, though, I think he just wanted to get outta that fancy hostel and away from those chicks breathing down his neck and…"**_

"_**FUCK!" yelled the contact. "Fuckfuckfuck! Jordan, you'd better get your ass to that village NOW! The first train!"**_

"_**Why? What the hell's going on?" Jordan asked.**_

"_**Okay, look…" the guy said. "I can't tell you everything. All I can do is warn you to keep your eyes open and be ready for ANYTHING! And don't trust anyone, including the authorities, ESPECIALLY not them! You have to do this yourself!"**_

"_**But…" Jordan started.**_

"_**But nothing!" his contact interrupted. "After I give you these directions, get moving! You'll take the next train to Bratislava, but you'll get off at the last stop before the city…"**_

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_Fuck me for not coming with him to begin with! _Jordan berated himself. _If I'd been with him from the start, I wouldn't even have to be here! I don't want to be. Shit, this place gives me the creeps! _Nonetheless, he was here, and he knew exactly what he had to do.

Jordan was not exactly what you'd call "fearful"; far from it. As a matter of fact, he was about as fearless as any human being can be. Still, something about this place sent chills up his spine, but he wasn't sure why. In fact, he'd had this unsettling feeling ever since he arrived at the little Slovakian town—stepping out of the cab, arriving at the hostel, checking in, exploring the town. But, at that moment, the feeling was stronger than ever. He took a deep breath and continued to gaze at the gate.

Suddenly, a black car drove up to the gate and positioned itself to enter. A man dressed in all black, with sunglasses, got out of the car and walked up to the keypad on the side of the gate. Jordan stared harder, focusing with all his attention, as the man pressed several buttons: 6-2-4-7-3-1-8-4-9-0-1-3. The gate opened, and the man got back into the car, driving through.

Jordan quickly repeated the numbers to himself several times, memorizing them:

_6-2-4-7-3-1-8-4-9-0-1-3_

_6-2-4-7-3-1-8-4-9-0-1-3_

_6-2-4-7-3-1-8-4-9-0-1-3_

Not that it was an appropriate reaction, considering the situation, but he smiled widely, proud of his ability to memorize such a long series of numbers that quickly. _Now, to figure out a way in_, he thought. He couldn't exactly walk up to the gate and enter the code; the cameras would spot him, and he'd probably be shot on site. If only he could somehow get into one of those cars…

Jordan quickly put his binoculars away and started climbing down the tree, making sure to stay between it and the cameras. Once his feet touched ground, he moved silently into the depths of the forest but not too far to see the road. He slowly headed in the direction from which the previous car came, on a hunch that the cars would tend to come from the same direction.

After moving for about thirty minutes, Jordan stopped for a rest. He reached into his pack and pulled out some metal spiked balls, being careful not to cut himself. _That first car looked pretty nice, so surely they're equipped to change a flat._ That way, he could stop the car but without permanently damaging it.

Just then, he could hear a car coming in the distance. He quickly ran into the street, set the spiked balls in a small pattern on the correct side of the street, and retreated into the forest. Sure enough, as the car drove by, the spikes punctured the first tire on the right side, and sent the car into a skid. The skid sent the back of the car facing the forest. Jordan grinned and made a swift retreat behind a bush as a man got out of the car and came around back.

The large, muscular, bald man opened the trunk and took out a spare tire and some tools, cursing under his breath. As he walked back around to fix the flat tire, Jordan could hear him ask, in a distinctly Eastern European accent, "How the hell did these get into the tire? Oh, well…"

Jordan quickly looked at the open trunk and noticed a space where he could fit and hide. He silently, but swiftly, crept up to the back of the car. Fortunately, the trunk lid blocked the view from the back window or rearview mirror. He slid into the space and quickly covered himself with the tarp, hoping he wouldn't be detected.

He soon felt the car go back down, after the man lowered and removed the jack. He remained still and silent as he felt the punctured tire and tools fall into the trunk. Everything went dark, and he heard the trunk lid close. The car soon started once again and continued moving towards compound Jordan had been observing earlier. _Here we go..._

**Note 1:** As you may have realized, this fanfic does not deal with the main characters of _Hostel_ or _Hostel II_. It could be either after the events of _Hostel II_ or in an alternate universe entirely—whichever works for you. (Unless, of course, I elect to bring in some of those characters at a later date.)

**Note 2:** Jordan's comments about Slovakia and "chicks" do not represent my own views about the country or about women. In fact, I'm sure Slovakia is a wonderful place, and I'm also what you might call a "male feminist."


	2. Chapter 2: Car Ride, pt 1

**DISCLAIMER:** I do not own either of the movies in the _Hostel _series, nor am I affiliated with them in any manner whatsoever. This is just fanfiction.

**Chapter 2: Car Ride, pt. 1**

The engine hummed steadily as the car went down the road towards the compound. It jumped occasionally as it hit various bumps and holes in the road. The faint sound of idle chatter in the car could be heard from the trunk. It had been only a few minutes, but Jordan was already getting uncomfortable lying in this position. _I can't believe I'm doing this again..._

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_**After Jordan got off the phone with his contact, he walked over to the bookcase. **__Be ready for ANYTHING, he said. Yeah, I know what that means!_

_**Pulling three books out, he reached his hand inside the opening for a moment and pulled it back out. The bookcase started moving to the left, exposing a hidden storage cabinet in the wall. Jordan then turned the dial on the door until he heard a click, and it came open. He looked inside and sighed, shaking his head.**_

"_**It's time."**_

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_Damn! Even I have never experience anything this weird before. Ha, "weird" is an understatement. More like __**freakish**__! Why am I getting so unsettled? This isn't like me at all! _Jordan couldn't understand why this was getting him so out of sorts. He had been in worse situations before, but something had been bothering him ever since he got to the town. It shouldn't have bothered him, especially considering what a lovely little town it was. Jordan could see why Richard found it so charming. _I wonder how many pictures he took! _He snickered quietly. Of course, maybe that was the problem...maybe it was a little **too** perfect. Especially that hostel!

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_**Jordan stepped through the door of the hostel with his suitcase and looked around. The room was huge, with a high ceiling, a chandelier, and lots of fancy furniture. Dozens of young people in their early- to mid-20s were going back and forth. **__Ha, now that's high class!__** He looked around until he saw the front desk and walked up to it.**_

"_**Hello and welcome! May I help you?" said the desk clerk in a thick Slovakian accent. It was a very nerdy looking guy, same age as most of the guests, with glasses. Something about him, his voice and his manner gave Jordan the creeps.**_

"_**Yes, I'd like a room, please." Jordan kept his eye on the guy.**_

"_**For how many nights?"**_

"_**I'm not sure...three, at least."**_

"_**That's okay. We have a room for you." The desk clerk flipped through his record book and started writing in it, and Jordan noticed that he was left-handed. "I'll just need you to turn in your passport." **_

_Turn in my passport? That's fucked up as hell! And the other guests here actually go along with that? What naïve and trusting kids!__** Jordan thought. Still, he pulled out a passport and handed it to the desk guy.**_

_**The desk clerk looked at it for a second and said, "Thank you, Mr., um, Samuel Johnson. Your room is down that hall, the fourth one on the left." He pointed towards a hallway. He opened a drawer, also with his left hand, pulled out a key, and handed it to Jordan. "Here is your key. Please enjoy your stay." **_

_**Jordan walked down the hall and started to use the key, but he realized the door was already open. He walked in and saw two beautiful young women changing clothes. "Oh, I'm sorry!" he said. "I must have the wrong room."**_

"_**No, no!" The redhead said sweetly. "You are in ze right room." She pointed to a bed near the wall, "Zat must be your bed!"**_

"_**Oh, okay." Jordan replied. **__Mixed-gender rooming? This is weird. I'd better just play along.__** He turned back to the redhead and said "Please allow me to introduce myself. My name is, uh, Samuel Johnson. And you two are…?"**_

_**The redhead smiled and said "I'm Zlata, and zis is my friend Milena." She pointed to her blond friend, who smiled widely at Jordan.**_

"_**Pleased to meet you," Jordan said, and he started to put his stuff away. He put his suitcase on the bed and opened it up. First, he pulled out his backpack and set it aside. Next, he put the remainder of his stuff into his safe, set a unique combination, and then shut it. **__You never know what might get stolen in a place like this! __**Finally, he put on his backpack and started to leave the room, but one of the women stopped him.**_

_**Milena put her arm around him and told him "Ve vere just about to go down to ze spa and vere hoping you would join us!"**_

_**Jordan started to remove her arm, saying "I'd love to, but I have a few errands to run." **_

_**Then, Zlata came up in front of him and put both hands on his shoulders, almost pressing her body against his. "Oh, come on, Samuel. Eet vill be so much fun." She then smiled devilishly. "Eef you are lucky, zere vill be no one zere, and you just might have us all to yourself."**_

_**Jordan smiled and removed himself from their grasp. "Really, it sounds like fun, but I simply have to go do this stuff. Maybe some other time?" **__Shit! Ever heard of "personal space"?__** Without waiting for an answer, he said "goodbye" and headed towards the door. Suddenly, an idea hit him. He turned around and said "Hey, ladies?"**_

"_**Yes?" they replied in unison.**_

_**Jordan pulled out his wallet and removed a picture of Richard and showed it to them. "Have you seen this young man recently?"**_

_**They took the photo and looked at it. Jordan was sure he could see Zlata's eyes widen for a split second. However, she simply handed the photo back and said "No, sorry, ve haven't seen him." Milena also shook her head.**_

"_**Well, okay," he said. "Thank you, anyway." He left the room and went back to the front desk. Jordan rang the bell, and the desk clerk came up to him.**_

"_**Yes, may I help you?" he asked.**_

_**Jordan asked him "Did you have a Richard Morris staying here recently?" **_

"_**No, sorry."**_

"_**Are you sure? Maybe you should check your books?"**_

"_**Okay," the desk clerk nonchalantly replied. He opened up the books and quickly flipped through a few pages. Jordan could tell that he was not seriously looking. "Sorry, your friend was not here."**_

_**Jordan showed him the photo. "Does this look familiar to you?"**_

"_**Sorry, it doesn't. Do you need anything else?" **_

"_**No," said Jordan, shaking his head. "That's all." **_

"_**Bye, have a nice day." The desk clerk smiled.**_

_The little shit's not telling me everything he knows, obviously! __** Jordan thought. **__No one is! Oh well, I'll just have to start investigating. I'll get my fucking answers, one way or another!__** He headed toward the door, opened it up, and stepped outside. **__Now, let's see, where in this town would Richard go?__** He started walking.**_

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Jordan sighed, thinking about how insane this trip had been so far. The hostel itself. The beautiful, fancy hostel with the beautiful, fancy women. _Ha! Something tells me the hostel is the least of my worries._


	3. Chapter 3: Car Ride, pt 2

**DISCLAIMER:** I do not own either of the movies in the _Hostel _series, nor am I affiliated with them in any manner whatsoever. This is just fanfiction.

**Chapter 2: Car Ride, pt. 2**

Jordan almost had to laugh when he thought about how out of the ordinary his experience had been so far. _This whole town is crazy...crazy, or scared. What the hell is going on here, anyway?_ He had to reflect on everything he had been through during his first day in town—reflect and figure things out. He could see some faint glimmer of sense on the horizon but was still unable to put his finger on it.

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_**Jordan had spent the entire day exploring the town, going to any location that he thought would have appealed to Richard. He went into each place and showed Richard's picture to whoever was in charge, asking if they had seen him at all in the past several days. However, each time he asked, Jordan got nearly the same reaction. A quick head-shake and, in broken English, a soft "No, sorry, we no see him." Jordan could tell that they were quite nervous about it all. **__Obviously, this is even bigger than I imagined. This must be why my contact wanted me to take care of it myself._

_**It was the end of the day, and Jordan needed to relax. He went back to his room at the hostel and plopped down on the bed, hugging his backpack. No sooner than he started to drift off, he heard the door open and his roommates entering. He rolled over and smiled. "Hello, ladies!"**_

"_**Vy, hello Samuel!" said Zlata. "How are you feeling?"**_

"_**Oh, fine," said Jordan. "Just tired from all this sightseeing."**_

_**Milena then squatted down in front of him, looking him in the eyes. "Vy don't you come vith us tonight? Vee are going for drinks and dancing!"**_

"_**Oh, I'm just too tired," Jordan replied. "I just need some rest."**_

_**Milena looked disappointed. "Oh, but Samuel…Eet vill be so much fun!"**_

_**Jordan realized this might be an opportunity to do some extra investigation. Especially considering that Richard was always a fan of hanging out with the locals, wherever he was. Maybe I'll luck out and find a lead! Jordan then sat up and looked at Zlata and Milena. "Okay, I'll come. Just give me a moment to get ready."**_

_**Zlata shook her head. "Samuel, eet eez fine. Just come as you are."**_

"_**Great!" Jordan followed both of them out the door.**_

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_And this is where it gets really messed-up_, thought Jordan. _It was a really good thing I kept my wits about me. This could be where they got Richard. Leave it to him to get himself caught up in some fucked-up shit in a place like this!_

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_**The bar did not really impress Jordan. It was just a place for lonely locals or fun-loving backpackers to come to get drunk (and laid). He noticed that Zlata and Milena were pretty much giving him their undivided attention—him and every other male hostel guest who was also present that night. Jordan was actually relieved when the other guys spirited the young women away to dance.**_

_**Suddenly, he felt a hand on his shoulder. He quickly spun around to see a man, probably in his late thirties or early forties, looking at him. "May I help you?" Jordan asked.**_

"_**Oh, sorry," the man said. "I just noticed you looked really bored, so I figured I'd come over and chat a bit." **_

"_**Okay, sure," replied Jordan. "From your accent, I'm guessing you're American."   
**_

"_**Right you are, and from the sound of it, so are you," the man smiled. **_

"_**Yeah, I've been around America a bit, you could say." Jordan studied the man's expression and mannerisms intently. "I figured I'd come to Slovakia for a change of scenery. What brings you here?"**_

"_**Business. I'm just here on business."**_

_**Jordan cocked his head and looked into the man's eyes, feigning curiosity. "Business? In a small little town like this? What kind of business?" **_

_**The man hesitated, took a long sip of his drink, and replied, "Crafts. You see, there are lots of local craftsmen whose work is highly appreciated among collectors in North America and the rest of Europe. I'm just meeting with several of them to, um, negotiate contracts."**_

_Liar, __**thought Jordan. **__What are you up to, anyway?_ _**"I see. That actually sounds very interesting. I also know a guy who really appreciates crafts." Jordan took a sip of his drink and set it down. "Actually, if you don't mind, I'd like to run to the restroom for a moment, but I'll be right back."**_

_**As Jordan was leaving, the man replied, "Okay, Sam, see you in a few."**_

_**Jordan immediately turned around. "I'm sorry, but I don't remember us making introductions. How do you know my name?"  
**_

_**The man looked shaken up and took a second to regain his composure. "Oh, you didn't tell me. You just look like a 'Sam' to me."**_

_Sure, sure, __**thought Jordan. "Yeah, that makes sense. Speaking of which, what's your name?" he asked.**_

"_**Ron," replied the man. "My name is Ron Jacobs." **_

"_**Well, Ron, I'll be back shortly. Keep an eye on my drink, would you?" Ron nodded, and Jordan made his way to the back through the crowd. He entered the hallway where the restrooms were located but lingered and continued to observe Ron, unbeknownst to him.**_

_**Sure enough, in a few minutes, Milena strode over to Ron and roughly nudged his shoulder. Jordan could not hear their conversation, but Milena seemed to be shouting vigorously at Ron, who could only try to defend himself. This went on for a bit, until Milena grabbed Ron's hand, placed something into it, and stormed away. **_

_**Next thing Jordan knew, he saw Ron drop the object in his drink. **__Ahh, a drug,__** thought Jordan. **__Nice try!__** He immediately headed back over to his seat and but did not sit back down. "Hey, Ron. You know, it's actually getting kinda late, and I really need to get some rest. If it's okay, I believe I'll be heading back to the hostel, now."**_

"_**I understand," Ron said. "But Sam, don't you want to finish your drink first?"**_

"_**Nah, I don't really need alcohol right now, anyway. It'll just mess me up. But you can have it if you like."**_

"_**Don't be silly," laughed Ron. "It's your drink, and finishing it won't hurt."**_

"_**No, seriously, I'd rather not. Right now, I think I'll just bid you a good evening and hope you enjoy the rest of your visit here."**_

_**Ron started to get up to shake Jordan's hand, but something fell out of his pocket. Before he could bend over to retrieve it, Jordan picked it up. He noticed that it looked like a restaurant pager, like one would hold onto while waiting for a table to be ready. Strangely, there was a picture of a dog on the front of it. **__What on earth is this? __**Jordan asked himself. "Here you go. Are you awaiting a page or something?"**_

_**Ron looked extremely disturbed. It was a full five seconds before he could reply. "It's just the hotel. It's just to let me know when the room I really want is ready."**_

"_**But what's the dog about?" Jordan asked.**_

"_**It's the hotel logo."**_

"_**Strange choice for a logo," Jordan said. "Shouldn't they have chosen something more aesthetic breed, like a poodle?"**_

_**Ron laughed nervously. "Yes, I suppose so." He quickly put the pager away and extended his hand to Jordan. "Well, Sam, it was a pleasure to meet you."**_

_**Jordan took Ron's hand and shook it. "Likewise. Have a good night."**_

"_**You too."**_

_**Jordan then headed out the door of the bar to return to the hostel.**_

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Jordan had never figured himself for a conspiracy nut, but when he saw a conspiracy, he could recognize it. _An American businessman who has a peculiar interest in me and somehow knows the name I'm using at the hostel—and is somehow working with at least one of my roommates, who provided him with a mickey. _After that night, he had thought things could not get any murkier, but he was quickly proven wrong.


	4. Chapter 4: Car Ride, pt 3

**DISCLAIMER:** I do not own either of the movies in the _Hostel _series or _Star Wars_, or anything related to them, nor am I affiliated with them in any manner whatsoever. This is just fanfiction.

**Chapter 4: Car Ride, pt. 3**

The car hummed steadily as it drove down the road. Deep in his reflections over the past couple of days, Jordan was abruptly returned to the present when the car hit a particularly deep pothole and jumped, causing his head to collide with the roof of the trunk. "Shit!" he exclaimed, immediately clapping both hands over his mouth.

He listened and could hear the conversation picking up in the car. It was faint, but he could make out someone saying "Did you just hear something?" _Fuck!_ thought Jordan. _I'm gonna get caught. Better get ready..._

Fortunately, though, another voice replied "No, I heard nothing. Maybe it was just the car. It ran over a bump."

Jordan sighed in relief. _I can't get caught. Now is __**not**__ the time for a confrontation!_ Not that he was afraid, but he liked to keep confrontations to a minimum, for simplicity's sake. He had already had one before coming here to infiltrate the facility.

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_**During one of his frequent thinking sessions in the hostel lobby, Jordan realized something about the desk clerk's behavior. Every time someone checked in, the clerk would wait until the guests had disappeared to their rooms, then he would quickly look around, take a handful of passports with him, and disappear into a deserted hallway. **__How strange, __**Jordan thought. **__Why do I have a feeling this is somehow connected to Richard's disappearance? I need to find out what he's doing._

_**Jordan sat there for another hour until another set of guests appeared. After they were checked in and the desk clerk started to take out their passports, Jordan got up and made like he was about to go outside, but as soon as the desk clerk disappeared into the hallway, Jordan snuck behind him, slowly and silently, hiding as he turned a corner. He peeked around the corner to see the desk clerk disappear down a roped-off stairwell. **__What's that all about? __**he wondered. **_

_**He noticed a nook behind the stairwell. **__Now's my chance!_ _**Jordan dashed into the hallway, past the staircase, and towards the nook, tucking himself into it. **__Guess I'll wait here until he leaves and then see for myself what's going on._

_**He heard footsteps and took a quick look. The desk clerk was leaving the staircase and putting the rope back into place. Jordan disappeared behind the corner just as the clerk turned around. The clerk then left the area, and when Jordan was sure he was gone, he quickly padded over to the staircase, stepped over the rope, and crept down the stairs.**_

_**It looked like a quaint little basement office, with a window to let in some light from above. A bookshelf. A few tables. A closet. A desk with a computer and scanner. Seemingly, nothing at all out of the ordinary. Jordan instinctively walked over to the desk, turned the computer on, and started exploring the drawers. He opened the largest drawer and saw a stack of passports, opened and lying face down. **_

_**Jordan started removing passports from the stack, looking at the pictures and placing them aside. It was all young adults, mostly in their 20s, from various countries—most prominently the United States. He stopped when he came across his own (fake) passport, the Samuel Johnson one, but continued to flip through them. Suddenly, he came across one that looked familiar. "Richard Morris," it said, with a photo that Jordan recognized all too well. **__Of course he was here! I already knew that.__** He quickly tucked both his and Richard's passports into his bag. **_

_**He turned to look at the computer and saw something strange on the screen. It was a picture of a young man, with a name under his photo, "Michael Johnson," and a monetary value under the name, "$46,000." To the side, there was a field that said "Client: Jake Stanley." **__What the hell is this? __**Jordan asked himself. He saw an arrow button, moused over it, and clicked it. It was another similar page, only a different picture, name, dollar value, and "client" name. He started browsing the pages, which were filled with the same young men and women that he saw on the passport, with different dollar values up in the tens of thousands. **_

_**Eventually, Jordan came to his own page. It had his picture, with the name "Samuel Johnson" and a value of $57,000. He immediately recognized the client name: "Ron Jacobs." **__So, the guy wanted me for something and wanted it bad enough to pay 57-grand. And my roommates and the hostel were helping him. Not to mention lots of others like him. What did he want me for?__** He shook his head and continued to browse.**_

_**He took a step back when he saw Richard's page. Jordan muttered to himself, "Sixty-four thousand. Robert Parker." He stared intently at the computer screen as he tried to figure out what was going on here. **__What is this? Some kind of abduction ring for sex or slavery?_

_**As Jordan pondered, he suddenly heard the faint sound of footsteps. He turned to his right in time to see the desk clerk standing there, with a metal candlestick held high above his head in his left hand, about to bring it down!**_

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Jordan could not help snickering to himself briefly. _I knew there was a reason I didn't like that guy! Still, he was useful in his own way—more than one way, actually!_

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_**Just as the candlestick was about to collide with his head, Jordan swiftly swept his right arm up and outward, blocking the blow and knocking the object from the desk clerk's hand. At the same time, he balled his left hand to a fist and thrust it forward into the clerk's solar plexus. As the clerk doubled over, breathless and stunned, Jordan drove his right fist into the guy's jaw, knocking him to the ground.**_

_**The desk clerk tried to push himself up off the ground, spitting out blood and a few broken teeth in the process. Jordan then bent over and pulled him the rest of the way up...right before throwing him against the bookcase really hard. The entire case rattled from the force of Jordan's attack, and several items fell to the floor. The desk clerk immediately slumped to the floor, and Jordan roughly grabbed his arm and turned him over so he was lying on the floor on his stomach.**_

_**Jordan then got on the ground as well and straddled the clerk's back; the clerk started to struggle but a swift punch to the back of the head immediately stopped that. Jordan reached underneath his shirt and pulled out a fairly large knife. The five-inch, well-sharpened blade gleamed brightly in the faint light from the window. Jordan then grabbed a handful of the guy's hair and pulled his head up and back, as far as he could without breaking his neck, and pressed the knife's blade against his throat. Jordan held the knife for a moment, in which both young men were silent, before pulling it slightly to the right.**_

_**It was not fatal, but the desk clerk felt the knife as it cut into his skin just enough to draw a stream of blood. He grunted in pain. Then, he asked Jordan, "Vat are you doing? Vat do you vant? Vat is going on here?"**_

"_**Ha!" exclaimed Jordan, his voice suddenly raspier and a few octaves deeper. "I could ask you the same thing, now couldn't I?" He chuckled in a very dark and intimidating manner. "What the fuck kind of operation are you running here? What are you doing with your guests? Who are these "clients" of yours, and what are they paying shitloads of money for?"**_

"_**I not tell you anything. Just go avay, please," the desk clerk pleaded.**_

_**Jordan growled at him. "Oh, you'll tell me, all right. You'll tell me everything you know, or I'll cut your fucking throat right here!" The clerk started to sob softly, and Jordan could feel his slight convulsions. **__What a pitiful, miserable little piece of shit! __**thought Jordan. **__Probably just some sleazy underling, willing to do anything for some profits. Probably never got laid in his life. When he's not working the desk, I'll bet anything he just sits in his room and beats off to a poster of Princess Leia from Star Wars. __**"I don't have all fucking day! Obviously, you were lying to me earlier because Richard WAS here. I found his passport over there, as well as his page on your computer. I don't know what you sons of bitches have done with him, but you're going to tell me everything I need to know to find him...if you want to live!"**_

"_**You vill have to kill me. I will not talk. Better I die than be caught by THEM!" The clerk sniffed. "They'll kill you and then come for me, and I rather be dead than that!"**_

_Obviously, whoever he's working for, he's afraid of them. So afraid he'd rather die than piss them off,_ _**Jordan thought. **__I guess I'll just have to try alternative methods of persuasion. __**Jordan put his knife away, and grabbed the desk clerk's head with both hands. He pulled it back, and abruptly slammed the guy's face into the floor with all his strength--eliciting a cry of pain. Jordan slammed it into the floor a couple more times. "Ready to talk yet?"**_

"_**No." the voice softly muttered.**_

"_**Fine." Jordan reached over and grabbed the clerk's left hand, taking hold of the pinky with his other hand. "You're left-handed, right?" Jordan asked. He immediately jerked the finger backward until it snapped, and the clerk jerked and yelped in pain. "Now?" Still nothing, so Jordan grabbed the ring finger and broke it as well, eliciting more cries. And so on, with the other two fingers and, eventually, the thumb itself.**_

_**Not satisfied, Jordan got up and went to fetch the candlestick. He noticed the desk clerk trying to push himself up with his right hand, so Jordan kicked it out from under him and straddled his back once more. He raised the candlestick high and slammed it down onto the clerk's hand, shattering the bones in the hand and wrist.**_

"_**Aaaaaah!" he screamed. "I can't tell you anything. Please stop!"**_

_**Nonchalantly, Jordan got up, grabbed the injured hand, pulled the arm up, placed his foot against the elbow joint, and was about to snap it backwards, right before the desk clerk screamed "All right! I'll talk! Just no more please!"**_

_**Jordan immediately stepped back and rolled the guy over with his foot. "Okay. First, tell me what's going on here!"**_

_**The clerk grunted in pain. "Zis business, Elite Hunting, it gets young people like you for rich clients all over ze world. Ve get them at ze hostel, and I scan ze passports for ze clients to bid. Highest bid gets it. Zen zey take zem to zis facility and…"**_

_**Jordan was getting impatient. "Forget it! Just tell me how to get to this facility so I can find Richard!"**_

"_**Are you sure you vant to go zere?" asked the clerk. "No one **__**vants**__** to go zere but ze clients. You'd be better to just forget zis Richard and go back home!"**_

"_**Nice try, but I'm not convinced. I most definitely intend to go. Now, unless you want me to finishing fucking up your left arm, give me the damn directions!" Jordan snarled.**_

"_**All right, all right!" The clerk was slowly getting himself up off the floor. "Next to ze old palace at the edge of town, zere is a deserted road leading off into ze distance. Eet goes to Bratislava, but no one ever goes on ze road but Elite Hunting and ze clients. If you follow it for fifteen kilometers, you vill see a large stone wall vith a metal gate. Zat is ze facility. But you vill not be able to enter. You need ze code and even I do not know it."**_

_**Jordan laughed. "Oh, I'll find a way in, all right. Don't you worry about that. But one more thing…" Jordan took his knife back out and pressed it against the desk clerk's throat again. "You had better not tell anyone about this, and I had better find Richard alive and relatively unharmed...or I will come back for you to finish what I started here!"**_

"_**Samuel," said the desk clerk. "Please go ahead and kill me now. I don't want them to come for me."**_

_**Jordan felt a microscopic touch of compassion. "Look, don't worry about them. If I'm successful, you'll be fine. Trust me." Then, he added, "Oh, and you might want to see a doctor about your hand! Not to mention all those cuts and bruises."**_

_**He turned around and headed to the door to leave the basement. Suddenly, he heard a gunshot and saw the mirror on the wall shatter. He turned around to see the desk clerk pointing a semi-automatic handgun at him—pointing badly, no doubt, because he had to use his right hand.**_

_**As the desk clerk tried to aim for another shot, Jordan instantly flipped the knife in his hand around so that he was holding the blade. Just as the clerk pulled the hammer back again, Jordan hurled the knife through the air and dropped to the floor, landing it in the clerk's forehead as the bullet hit the wall above him.**_

_**The clerk slumped to the floor, and Jordan got up and walked over to the body. He reached down and pulled his knife out of the guy's forehead, using the dead young man's shirttail to wipe the blood off. He also checked the pockets for any useful items and took a set of keys. **_

_Shit! Now I have a body to deal with! What can I do with it? __**Jordan looked around the room and noticed a space behind the bookcase. **__No one will look there, surely!__** He walked over to the supply closet and opened it up. **__Perfect! __**He pulled out a large plastic tarp, some rope, and some duct tape. **_

_**He lay the tarp out on the ground and moved the body onto it. Next, he rolled up the tarp and tied each end off tightly with the rope. Then, he used the duct tape to seal off the edge of the tarp. **__That way, no one can smell it!__** Finally, he hefted the body and slid it into the space behind the bookcase. **__Or find it...at least for a while!_

_**Jordan picked up the gun and removed the clip. He noticed that it had 16 more bullets. **__Ah, one of those illegal types! Wonderful! __**He then checked the drawers of the desk and noticed a box of bullets and put them and the gun into his backpack. **_

_**He then headed up the stairs and to his room. He quickly opened the safe, and put his stuff back into his suitcase, and started out the door, when Milena came in. "Oh, Samuel, are you leaving us so soon?"**_

_**Jordan smiled at her and said, "Yeah, I guess so. It's been fun, but I gotta run."**_

_**Milena pouted and tossed her hair. "Oh, that is too bad. I was hoping ve could get to know each other a leetle better, if you know vat I mean!"**_

_**Then, Jordan replied, "Okay, I guess so."**_

"_**Come!" She grabbed his hand and led him over to her bed. As they both sat down, they looked into each others eyes and smiled. Milena placed her hand on Jordan's thigh, and started to move it up toward his crotch. **_

_**Jordan took her face in both of his hand, moving them around and through her hair. He then moved his left hand to the top of her head and his right hand to her chin. He almost looked like a man in love...until his expression instantly turned hard. Before she could react, he gripped her head and chin tightly and...SNAP!**_

_**As she slumped over dead, Jordan got up from the bed and started to move the body around. When he was done, it looks as if she was doubled over sleeping. He then picked up his suitcase and went out the door, closing and locking it, and hanging up the "Do Not Disturb" sign. **_

_**He then went to the front desk and left the key on the counter. He walked outside of the hostel and around to the parking lot. He studied all the cars in the lot until he saw one with Star Wars memorabilia, including a bumper sticker that read "Jedi-In-Training." **__That must be his!__** He walked up to the car, put a key in the trunk lock, and turned it. **__Open Sesame!_

_**Jordan placed his suitcase in the trunk and shut it. Then, he went around to the driver's side and opened the door. He got in, shut the door, and put on his seatbelt. He then placed another key in the ignition, turned it, and started the car up. Finally, Jordan pulled out of the lot and started toward the deserted road the desk clerk had told him about...**_

-----------------------------

Jordan really hoped he had hidden the car well in the bushes. Something told him he would need it once he and Richard got out of the Elite Hunting facility. _Let's just get this shit over with, already!_

All of a sudden, Jordan felt the car slow to a crawl, make a small 90-degree turn, and stop. He heard the door open, and a man—presumably the bald man—got out of the car and said "Just a moment."

Jordan smiled and said to himself, "It's go time!"

**NOTE:**I am completely opposed to violence against women, so Jordan's actions should not suggest that I condone it in any shape, form, or fashion. (Of course, to be fair, this particular woman WAS trying to hand Jordan over to Elite Hunting!)


	5. Commentary on HOSTEL films

**DISCLAIMER:** I do not own either of the movies in the _Hostel _series or anything related to them, nor am I affiliated with them in any manner whatsoever. This is just personal commentary.

**The Appeal of the **_**Hostel**_** Films**

Obviously, this is not simply another chapter of my story. Rather, I am taking the time to offer a rebuttal to all the critics who feel the need to trash these films and attack the films' fans...instead of simply agreeing to disagree. (WARNING: SPOILERS!!!)

Lots of discussion about _Hostel_ (by which I mean both I and II) seems to center around the films' gore (particularly the accusation that the movies are "torture porn") and the psychology of the films' fans. The latter debate, especially, seems to center on the contention that the fans of _Hostel_ are somehow twisted or warped--that they are desensitized to torture or, worse, get off on seeing people tortured. Hence, people who don't like the films often feel the need to voice moral outrage that the films are both produced and enjoyed. Personally, I find it ridiculous that fans are put into the position of having to defend their character...all because they dared to enjoy a film that someone else did not. (A "someone else" who usually just needs to learn that his/her subjective preferences are just that...subjective!)

To that end, I'd like to provide a number of reasons that one might enjoy or be engrossed by _Hostel_...reasons which most would agree have no bearing on anyone's moral character or mental health:

**NOTE:** Most of these reasons are overlapping, so please excuse if it seems repetitive at times.

**1. Personal security.** Most of us go through our lives believing that seriously bad things (e.g., natural disasters, accidents, illness, violence) are not going to happen to US; they only happen to other people. We can go about our lives, from place to place, including abroad, in more or less total safety! And, if something "seriously bad" does happen to us, it will at least be normal and allow us to keep our dignity. However, _Hostel_ completely undoes that security, at least for a moment. It disrupts our metaphorical bubble of safety, if only on a hypothetical level. We may regain our sense of safety upon leaving the theater or turning off the DVD, but while watching, we are left realizing we're possibly not so safe after all. That has a way of engaging the mind and drawing viewers into the film.

**2. Faith in others.** We know a lot of people who are close to us--friends, family, classmates, co-workers, religious leaders, etc. And, we tend to assume that these people are normal, in the sense of being basically moral, law-abiding, well-intentioned, and more or less mentally healthy. At worse, they may be a little bit weird or "off," right? We kind of assume they're not into anything that we'd find excessively bizarre, disturbing, or immoral. (After all, do you ever seriously consider that the stranger in front of you in line at the movies, let alone your best friend or mother, could be into some kinda sick, twisted junk?)

Yet, _Hostel_ defies these assumptions. The torturers in the movies tend to be well-respected, affluent family- and career-people and all around upstanding pillars of society. No one in their lives probably suspects that they harbor a secret desire to torture and kill. For many fans, perhaps, _Hostel_ is thought-provoking in that it makes us realize that such could be the case in our own social circles. Perhaps our best friend might be secretly sadistic like the "Elite Hunting" clients! (After all, if they were, it's not like they'd tell us!) If you're open to it, _Hostel_ can really make you think.

**3. Reality.** Some movies, such as the ALIEN and HELLRAISER movies, depends upon the element of fantasy--in those cases, science fiction and the supernatural, respectively. The events of _Hostel_, however unlikely, could actually happen! An unethical hostel could serve as a base for abductions of unsuspecting tourists. There could be a "torture facility" in some country. So far, there is no known real-life "Elite Hunting" organization, but that does not mean the existence of one is impossible! Hostel forces us to think about the reality of such things.

**4. Identification with the characters' naivete.** In many cases, we feel like we are similar to the characters in the films. Indeed, perhaps we could be them. Who wouldn't want to go to Europe and have a blast--especially in a gorgeous little Slovakian town with a fancy hostel! We'd probably go to the hostel, check-in, and even give the desk guy our passports without even thinking! Then, we'd do all the fun stuff (bars and parties) as if it were no big deal. we may criticize the characters for being stupid, but deep down, many of us realize that we'd probably have made the same mistakes.

**5. Identification with the characters' terror.** We can understand what the characters are going through. From the initial confusion, to the shock of discovering the situation, to the fear, to the hysterics, to the utter sense of powerlessness. After all, if we were in their position, would we not feel the same things?

**6. Sense of impeding doom.** As soon as the movie starts, we know what the main characters are in for. We know, more or less, what's going to happen to them and that nothing can save them. As human beings, we have a tendency to be captivated by horror or disaster--such as a crime scene, or the aftermath of a natural disaster, or a car accident. We take no joy in it, and we are usually sincerely concerned for the victims. Nonetheless, it is so overwhelming that we, often, cannot take our eyes off of it. I'm sure that few fans, if any, actually WANT horrific things to happen to the main characters; nonetheless, with the knowledge that it's going to happen, the flow of action towards that inevitable moment is mesmerizing--hypnotic, even.

**7. Lingering sense of hope.** At the same time, there is always some form of hope. Contrary to the constant accusation that _Hostel_ fans enjoy the torture, I think that most fans actually want the soon-to-be victims to ESCAPE, to avoid their fates. We hope that, somehow, the future victim will make smarter decisions (e.g., Lorna from _Hostel_ II), manage to appeal to the torturer's conscience (e.g., Josh from I and Beth from II), or outsmart "Elite Hunting" (e.g., Paxton from I and Beth from II). While the sense of doom keeps us transfixed, the sense of hope keeps us attentive.

**8. Compassion.** Again, contrary to the numerous attacks on _Hostel_ fans' moral character and mental health, the main characters can arouse our compassion. We come to care about and feel sorry for those who become victims. Our heart hurts when sweet people like Josh in I and Lorna in II pass on. We feel deflated when Paxton, our hero from I, dies in II. In fact, when one of the torturers (Todd in II) has a change of heart ("redemption," even?), perhaps we're sad to see him lose his life as "reward" for deciding not to participate.

To recap, _Hostel_ has several factors that can draw one into the film, such as identification with the characters, a dualism between doom and hope, and an appeal to our basic human compassion. On a more existential level, it makes us contemplate our personal security and our faith in those around us. Finally, it brings all these to the level of reality.

I hope this demonstrates my reasons for considering the films to have legitimate appeal, at least to some individuals. Just because someone enjoys a film that contains torture and/or gore does not mean that they enjoy the film because of those things--or that they regard either of those positively. Rather, the torture and gore can be seen as plot elements that serve a purpose.


	6. Chapter 5: Infiltration

DISCLAIMER: I do not own either of the movies in the Hostel series, nor am I affiliated with them in any manner whatsoever

**DISCLAIMER:** I do not own either of the movies in the _Hostel _series or anything to do with _Silent_ _Hill_ (the game or the movie), nor am I affiliated with them in any manner whatsoever. This is just fanfiction.

**Chapter 5: Infiltration**

Jordan laid there quietly, waiting in silence. The car slowly moved along the ground for nearly half a minute, and he could feel it make two turns. It slowed down even more as it moved over what seemed to be a speed-bump. There was a small hole where some light had came into the trunk earlier, but it had disappeared completely, telling Jordan that the car just entered a parking garage or other building. The car continued to move along the ground, until it took a brief turn and came to a complete stop.

The doors on each side came open, and Jordan could hear people stepping out of it and shutting the doors. The two men were chatting with each other, and he could hear two or three more join them. He listened closely, as they spoke.

"Yeah, we got a flat tire on the way back. No idea what happened, either. The tire just blew out and we had to stop and replace it. The flat one's still in the trunk."

"Should I just get it now?" _Oh, shit!_ Jordan thought. _I don't need this!_

Fortunately, the first guy replied, "Not right now. First we need to escort this fellow inside. Come along!" Jordan breathed a sigh of relief but also wondered what was going on there. _Who are they "escorting"? And who cares?_ He shook his head.

He was trying to decide if he should open the trunk from the inside or wait for someone to come along and "let him out." At first, he considered undoing the lock from the inside, but then realized if someone saw the trunk opening on its own, it would give them more time to notice and react. He decided instead to wait for someone to come along.

While he was waiting, Jordan started to work on stretching and flexing his muscles. First, he stretched his arms and moved them around, taking care not to disturb any objects inside or make any noise. Then, he arched his back and bent it forward a few times, limbering up his spine. Finally, he moved his body around so that he could stretch his legs and bend them repeatedly, getting the blood flowing again. He knew that his body would need to be limber and unencumbered once he was "released."

He waited in the trunk for 20-30 more minutes, until he heard someone approaching. _This is it_, he thought. He turned so that his legs were bent and his feet facing out of the trunk, moving up so that he could extend them as far out as possible. The footsteps were closer and he could hear that it was two men. They were mumbling to each other, but it was so indistinct that he could not quite make it out. Even his small amount of Slovakian was of no use here.

They continued to chat for a few more minutes, and Jordan started to wonder if they were even here for this particular car at all. But, then, he heard one of them say, "We have to get this flat tire out of here. What the hell even happened to those guys in the first place? Tires don't just go flat for no reason!"

The key entered the trunk lock, and Jordan could hear it snap. As the lid came open, he noticed that the two men were standing side by side, so he quickly moved both legs apart slightly. The trunk lid came further up and light flooded the trunk. The two big men in black, one bald and one with what appeared to be a crew-cut, made eye contact with Jordan for a split second…right before Jordan's legs immediately shot outward, simultaneously kicking each man in the chest!

The force of the kicks sent each of the men backwards several steps and stunned for a second. Just a second, but long enough for Jordan to leap out of the trunk, unsheathe his knife, and assume his fighting stance.

Both men immediately barreled towards Jordan, ready to grab and subdue this unexpected intruder, one with a police baton. Unsurprisingly, though, each left himself vulnerable and open to attack, in his own way. The first man, the bald one, tried to charge Jordan directly and punch him, but Jordan deflected the blow and quickly drove his knife into his throat.

Before Jordan could pull out the knife, the other man took a swing at his head with the baton, so he had to quickly dodge it and step out into a more open area, barely missing another swing in the process. The man then charged full-on, but Jordan dropped to the ground and threw him off his feet with a quick leg sweep.

As Jordan went to get his knife, he saw man come at him again, this time more frustrated and angry. As the man got within arm's length, Jordan used the man's own force to throw him, then quickly step behind him, grab his head, and break his neck.

The whole fight had lasted less than a minute.

Jordan quickly went to retrieve his knife from the other man's throat and his backpack from the trunk. He used the man's shirt to clean the blood off the knife and re-sheathed it. He also decided to pick up the baton because a blunt weapon might be more appropriate than a blade, in some cases.

He stood there for a moment, debating on whether to try to hide the bodies and clean up the mess, so as to avoid alerting anyone else that there was something amiss. However, he decided that Richard possibly did not have that much time, so he chose to leave them out there like that. _Besides_, he thought, _they're likely to start panicking once they see this sight, and that can be useful in its own way. Fear can be a powerful weapon!_

Jordan slipped on his backpack and started towards a door near the back of the parking garage, which surely led into the facility. He slinked along the wall, taking advantage of the shadows. He scooted around the corner and down the next wall toward the door, which was fortunately already open. He peeked around the corner, just enough to see what was going on without exposing himself. He could hear footsteps coming down the way and glimpse a figure coming forward, so he darted back behind the wall and took out his knife. _Don't want them discovering me THIS soon!_

As the figure stepped out into the garage area, Jordan silently snuck up right behind him, placed his left hand over the man's mouth quickly, and slid his knife along his throat. The man fell down with his hands around his throat, trying in vain to stop the blood flow, staring up in disbelief at the silhouette of Jordan, who was already walking down the hallway to continue searching for Richard.

--

Jordan crept down the dark and dilapidated hallway, lit only by a few overhead lights hanging from the ceiling. It smelled really damp and musty, and even Jordan was a bit creeped out by it. _Very old, clearly, and likely abandoned long ago, claimed only recently for some other purpose. What is this, a mental hospital? A prison? They should've used it as the set for the Silent Hill movie...it sure as fuck looks like there could be a gate to Hell inside! And why am I feeling this way? Whatever's inside must be pretty fucking horrible because I simply _don't_ get scared or freaked out -- period!_

So far, it was just a hallway, with no rooms, but as Jordan walked, he suddenly noticed a long line of light from what appeared to be a doorway. He walked up to the door and peered through the crack, as it was not closed. He saw two more men dressed in black, as well as an elegant-looking woman in her late fifties and what appeared to be a professional looking man in his mid-thirties.

The woman spoke, smiling but with eyes perfectly cold, "Jake, you will be on Level 2. We have Michael here, and he is all ready for you!"

"Good," Jake replied with a subtle (but clearly psychotic) grin.

Jordan thought back to the computer screen in the basement at the hostel. _Jake? Michael? That has to mean Jake Stanley and Michael Johnson, from the computer files! But what in the hell is this all about, anyway?_

The woman continued to address Jake. "Just tell me what items you want, and I'll instruct the men to have them in place for you."

Jake appeared to contemplate for a moment, then told her, "Well, first I'll have the nail gun. Then, I want the circular saw. And, I also like the looks of that sander…"

Jordan was more confused than ever. _Do I even _want_ to know?_ he asked himself. He shook his head and continued on down the hallway. He passed a few more rooms, which mostly empty, with little or no lighting. One seemed to have a fire going, with a big ugly guy rolling a cart towards what appeared to be a furnace and throwing bundles on it. Jordan had no idea what was in the bundles; he tried to look and figure it out, but he could not distinguish anything because the room was poorly lit and because the bundles were all wrapped in sheets, anyway. _Fuck it! I don't have time for this!_

The hallway seemed to end in a large door, from which a dim light was emerging, but before Jordan could get any closer to it, he heard a loud but feminine yell behind him. "You there! Who are you, and what are you doing?"

Jordan quickly turned around towards the Slovakian-accented female voice to see a woman in black and sunglasses, with blond hair, pointing an assault rifle at him.


End file.
